16. Christian
16
CHRISTIAN
I had never been a man who doubted myself. Confidence was ingrained in me, something I had sharpened through years of helping run the family business.
But as I stood in my penthouse, waiting for Scarlett to arrive, I felt something foreign—an unshakable anticipation mixed with the sharp edge of nervousness.
It was a rare feeling, one that only she could stir in me.
The velvet box in my pocket felt heavier than it should have, like it carried the weight of everything we had been through, every battle we had fought side by side. And in a way, it did.
Scarlett was my equal in every way. She was fierce, unbreakable, and the strongest person I knew. But I also knew she carried her own doubts, her own fears.
Tonight, I wanted to erase those doubts. I wanted to give her something undeniable.
A future—together.
The sound of the elevator chiming pulled me from my thoughts.
I turned just as the doors slid open, and there she was.
Scarlett stepped inside, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders, wearing a sleek dark red dress that hugged her in all the right ways.
But it wasn’t the dress that held me captive—it was the way her eyes softened when she saw me, the way her lips curved into that small, tired smile, like she was home.
“Hey,” she murmured.
“Hey,” I echoed, my voice rougher than I intended.
She glanced around the room, eyes flicking to the dining table set for two—soft candlelight flickering, wine already poured. She arched a brow.
“This looks suspiciously like a date.”
I smirked. “You saying I can’t take my girlfriend out on a date?” I asked.
Scarlett froze, her breath catching. “Christian…”
“Sit with me.”
For a moment, she hesitated, but then she crossed the room, sinking into the chair I pulled out for her. I poured more wine into her glass, watching as she studied me carefully.
“What’s going on?” she finally asked.
I exhaled slowly, rolling my sleeves up before resting my forearms on the table.
“We’ve been through hell and back,” I started. “Victoria tried to destroy you. People doubted you. You doubted yourself.”
Scarlett’s lips parted slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.
I reached for her hand, threading my fingers through hers. “But you won. And not just against her—you won against every damn thing life threw at you.”
A breath shuddered through her.
I squeezed her hand. “And I want to keep winning—with you.”
Her throat bobbed. “Christian…”
“I love you,” I said, my voice steady. “I have from the moment you stormed into my life and turned everything upside down.”
A small smirk tugged at her lips, but I wasn’t done, I continued, “You are my future, Scarlett. You and our baby.”
Her eyes glistened, emotions warring on her face.
I let go of her hand and reached into my pocket, pulling out the small velvet box. The moment I flipped it open, her breath hitched.
Inside was a diamond ring—timeless, elegant, undeniable. Just like her.
Scarlett stared at it, wide-eyed. “Christian…”
I stood, pulling her up with me.
“I don’t want to wait,” I admitted. “I don’t want to waste another second pretending I could ever be without you.” I took a slow breath, my heart pounding harder than it should have. “Marry me.”
Scarlett’s lips parted, and for a split second, I saw the hesitation flicker in her eyes. But then?—
Her expression changed.
Her shoulders straightened, her chin lifted, and she looked at me like she knew—without a doubt—that this was exactly where she was meant to be.
“Yes,” she whispered.
The word was barely out of her mouth before I was kissing her, cupping her face as she melted into me.
It was different this time—more than passion, more than desire. It was certainty.
Her hands fisted in my shirt, her lips urgent against mine. I felt the tremble in her fingers, the way she clung to me like she was holding onto something bigger than both of us.
When we finally broke apart, I pressed my forehead against hers. “Say it again.”
She let out a shaky laugh. “Yes.”
I slid the ring onto her finger, watching as it settled in place. Perfect.
Scarlett looked up at me, her smile soft but sure. “You really think we can do this?”
I brushed my thumb over her jaw. “I know we can.”
Later that night, we curled up on the couch, Scarlett nestled against my chest as I traced slow circles along her back.
“So,” she murmured. “Are we telling people, or keeping it to ourselves for a while?”
I smirked. “I already told my family.”
Scarlett gasped, shoving me lightly. “You did not.”
I laughed, catching her wrist and pulling her back into me. “I did. And my sister’s already planning a celebration.”
Scarlett groaned. “Christian…”
“You love my family,” I reminded her.
“I do,” she admitted. “But they’re going to make this a thing.”
I kissed the top of her head. “That’s the point.”
Scarlett sighed, but I felt the way she relaxed against me, the way her fingers absentmindedly traced the buttons of my shirt.
“Okay,” she murmured. “A small celebration.”
My grin widened. “I’ll let them know.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes, but there was warmth there.
I carried Scarlett over the threshold of our new home, and she huffed, smacking my shoulder. “I can walk, you know.”
I smirked, holding her tighter. “Where’s the romance in that?”
She rolled her eyes but let out a soft laugh, the sound easing something deep in my chest. After everything we’d been through—the sabotage, the fights, the distance—we were here. Together. Stronger.
I set her down gently in the foyer, watching as she took in the space. The open floor plan, the warm lighting, the carefully chosen touches that made this house feel like us.
Scarlett turned, her eyes shining. “It’s perfect.”
I reached for her, my hands settling on her waist. “We made it perfect.”
She smiled, leaning into me, and for the first time in a long time, I felt something close to peace.
Moving in together should have felt like a big adjustment, but with Scarlett, it was seamless.
Mornings started with the scent of coffee and the warmth of her body curled into mine.
Evenings ended with her in my arms, both of us exhausted but content, discussing work, the baby, the life we were building.
Amélie was thriving again. Scarlett had thrown herself into it, reclaiming what was hers with a fire I hadn’t seen in months.
And I was right there beside her, making sure no one ever threatened her business—or her—again.
One night, as we sat on the couch, she curled against me, I brought up an idea that had been simmering in the back of my mind.
“We should open another Amélie.”
She looked up, brow furrowed. “We are opening another one.”
“I mean international.”
Scarlett sat up, staring at me. “You’re serious.”
I nodded. “Paris. London. Tokyo. You could take your vision global.”
She exhaled, shaking her head. “That’s… huge.”
I took her hand, rubbing my thumb along her knuckles. “You’ve built something incredible. It’s time the world sees it.”
Her lips parted slightly, her mind already turning over possibilities. And then, after a long pause, she whispered, “Okay.”
I grinned. “Okay?”
Scarlett let out a breathless laugh. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
I pulled her into a slow, lingering kiss, feeling her relax against me. This was what I wanted—Scarlett by my side, fearless, ambitious, unstoppable.
The future had never looked brighter.